Until You're Mine
by Vivienne Iforgot Myname
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki is a real mystery to everyone. They wonder what's going on with his awfully lonely personal life, while he is the most recommended doctor in the hospital, and successful in every work he starts. He thinks he is in the top of the hierarchy, till he gets Rukia Kuchiki in his life. As his boss.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I'm perfectly aware of the fact that I should update a new chapter, but I couldn't help but edit this story. Well, it's only 3 chapters long so far, so I guess you could forgive me. I'll change ch 2 soon.**

**I'll explain this decision a little bit: this whole" introduce chapters" wasn't my best idea, I want you guys to figure out their personalities and background through the actual storyline. **

**Sorry! I'll try to make it up with more chapters. The whole summary is on my profile. **

**Disclaimer: Bleach does not belong to me. **

**Thanks for The Clawed Butterfly for being my Beta!**

* * *

><p>The dark veil of the night slowly lifts off of from the waking town. From minute to minute, the grey gets lighter and lighter, showing off it's different shades before letting warmer colours take the lead role. First it's just kinda purple and red, but the real attraction is the orange.<p>

The colour that matches his hair slowly creeps into the man's office, and embraces him in it's light and soft halo. Like a soft caress from Mother Nature itself.

He doesn't care. He just stares out of the window, scowling as he replays his night shift's action.

He saved a life, again. But this fact left him untouched, like he is some sort of psychiatric case with a hero complex and a sociopath personality disorder. He shrugs it off, knowing that he is way too complicated for everyone to understand. Not like anyone really cares. Not like he cares.

_The name is Ichigo Kurosaki, 27 years old, traumatology surgeon in Karakura Town Hospital and Health Center. Governmental institution. _

His mind tells him to get up and check on the nurses who like to take breaks after every 10 minutes of work -maybe it's just his suppressed sadistic side that would like to torture the poor souls with a few false threat; sometimes it's stroking his ego how menaceable they are. But his body stays, feeling all of the weight of the world suddenly pushing him down, making him uncapable of moving even his fingers. For a second a small voice in his head calls him "_grandpa"._

He is tired.

He hears the door open, and in the blink of an eye he is on his feet, pretending to be fit enough to oragnize the papers on his desk, when a low chuckle reach his ears.

"I never knew that you are that scrupulous with documents."

Rolling his amber eyes, he looks up to find his colleague, may he say, friend watching him with pure amazement in his blue eyes. "Oh, welcome here in my cozy, humble little office. I'm so sad that you already have to leave, but visit me when pigs fly, Ishida." he smiled at him, of course, a fake one, before he made his way towards his coffe machine, turning it on with a single button.

The black haired male sits down, ignoring the irritated aura of Kurosaki, who watches him with furrowed brows. For seconds, only the voice of the boiling water can be heard, when the orange head finally gives in. "The regular?"

"Yes, please." Ishida answers, taking out a tissue from his pocket to wipe the small, dry stains of coffee from Ichigo's desk. "You're so clean."

He was busy making the two cups of coffee when Ishida said that, but he knew what he is talking about. And for a second the little devil on his shoulder told him to pour the whole pitcher of steaming hot coffee on his head, but the little angel won. "That's why the cleaners work, you know. "

"I know.. it's just a picture of you. And thanks." he says as a cup of coffee is slammed down before him. He sets his mouth in a thin line; Ishida is a patient gentleman, but he has to actually count to three to overlook this rude attitude.

"Okay, forget this little tea-party cover of yours. What do you want?" Ichigo is rough, he is tired of everything. Of everyone. Years and years of responsibility and work made him who he is today, and he likes to get straight to the point.

His companion pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose before looking him in the eye.

"It will stay between you and me, just be honest. In the deepest corner of your heart, don't you feel that it's ridiculous that you think that everyone who wants to converse with you has a back-up plan on taking something from you? Do you actually remeber what is it to talk with someone without bounds?" he sounds so calm and concerned that Ichigo has no idea whether he should calm down or act on full defense mode.

"I asked you first." he finally gritted out his answer, and a black eyebrow was raised at that. "To talk with you. Now my answer."

"I'm not used to have a lovely connection with people. They want something, I may give it to them, I want something, I take it." he shrugged, mixing his coffee with fast movements, but magically not even a drop pours out.

The complete opposite is Ishida, who stirs his with a calm, slow pace, adding sugar and cream to lighten the bitter taste. "You know, you remind me of your sun sign. Cancer. A crab, who has his shell to hide everytime he feels like, and actually damading everything with his chela."

"He can't help it that his touch is not gentle. And I've never seen a crab running around to cause damadge to things, but thanks for the mental image, it's hilarious. I've imagined one nipping and chasing you."

"You're hopeless, you know that?" he has to rub his temples to prevent a headache. He was right, this chat won't go anywhere. He better get staright to the point of his early visit. "I'm not sure if you still remember your friends, but they are worried about you. What's going on with you? You seem always so busy and unreachable that we came to the conclusion that_ hopefully _you are busy with_ someone_." his eyebrows suggesting his "hidden" meaning, but the amber eyed man just stares at him without any special expression on his face. Clearing his throat, he shrugs his shoulder. "We dared to dream, and we wish that you are occupied with a_ woman_."

Ichigo swirls around with his chair, pointing at the opened window while watching the internist. "There goes your hopes and dreams, because thanks for the concern, but I'm not fucking anyone right now."

Ishida feels ashamed instead of him. "You know, being in a relationship is not just about... sexual intercourse. And it's been... _years _since you last had a decent romance going on." he tried to respect the limit of his personal life, but he couldn't help his rising curiousness. It's rare that he has the luck to sit down and make him speak about himself for more than half a second.

"She is in the past, we seperated on pretty good terms."

Ishida couldn't help but shiver at his memory of Ichigo being heartbroken, empty and torn after his break-up - after realising that the one he wanted to wed cheated on him for months- the pain, and the semi-start of the new Kurosaki who is sitting before him. The nights of getting drunk, staying out for long hours till the dim morning lights guided them home, the times when their group of friends was able to form a whole team..

"Yes." he didn't dare to argue about it, if he is still denying it, he has no intentions of tearing up long-forgotten scars. "But don't you want to see anyone at the moment? There are plenty of single ladies out there. The nurses..."

"How's your marriage with Orihime? The two of you don't get tired of watching each other at work and at your home, too?" he wants to confuse him and make him forget his intendment about hooking him up with anyone.

Uryuu is taken aback, but quickly regains his collected presence. "We are perfectly fine, thanks for the question. We reached the point where we are talking about having a child."

For the first time, he sees honest emotions in Ichigo's face, and he mentally congratulates himself for finally breaking the ice in his heart. "I hope the two of you will succeed with your plans."

He may seem like the beast who is evil, raw, loathsome and bloodthirsty, but after all, he still has a heart. Jelaousy is something that left him a long time ago, he knows that he has his own life and he can do whatever he wants with it.

He is just lost somewhere amongst the lines. His goal changed, and his profession comes first. He may be wrong, but he feels content and satisfied from all the appreciation and admission that he gets from his work.

Despite his young age, he lived up to everyone's expectations, even exceeded their set up limits. The Kurosaki name was left in a very high shelf on the top of the hierarchy, thanks to Isshin Kurosaki, his father. His son was quick to reach that position, revising and ordering his colleagues around. For his older co-workers, he was an arrogant, cocky pain in the ass who had the nerve to disrespect their decades of experience. But much to their dismay, he was always one step ahead of them, pointing out better solutions and treatments for every patient, winning their trust with his confident, precise knowledge and commanding presence.

The silence was thick, suffocating and heavily present in the air; and it doesn't go unnoticed by Ishida. He is also a smart man, well-educated in different fields of life, knowing that his inner questions and battle won't be answered and judged by the universe, or by any kind of God out there. He knows that his questions are right, they have every right to fly around in his head, and he knows that he barely knows the man who is sitting before him, while years ago they were best friends, always there to count and lean on the other.

The feeling of having everything but becoming almost nothing is _bitter. _

"So, that's all, I think. I won't bother you, and I still have some things that I want to check. See you later around."

Kurosaki doesn't feel remorse, but the same feeling sits on his heart and the same questions sit on the tip of his tongue. "Yeah, see you soon."

The door is closing, and the weight on him feels lighter and heavier at the same time. Sometimes he can't agree with himself.

Gulping down his cold coffee, he started to sign papers and checked his schedule to plan the rest of his day. 1 more hour before his night duty will end. At 7 am, he will be home if no one decides to rush in the hospital with a life or death situation that has to be treated immediately.

He can sleep. Thank God, he thought, but quickly dismissed the idea of thanking Him- questioning and doubting His existence after all the unfair, painful and wicked death that he had seen. In his world death is his worst enemy.

Eyeing his calendar from behind his glasses, he hummed at the thought of his private patients. In every Wednesday, he accepted patients who actually payed for his services. Smaller surgeries were done, and however he had the most friendly prices around the town, he welcomed the plus money, always thinking about the fututre and his safeness in the society.

Hmm, so... he had... 6 hours till his next shift. That's great.

Reaching out for the coffee pitcher, hepoured more into his cup from the pitch black beverage. Drinking it quickly, his face showed discomfort from the bitter liquid. Setting the white cup down, he reached out for his seal, slamming it down on several document before he signed them with his messy, unreadable handwriting.

Looking back up at the clock, he saw that only 5 miutes passed. 55 minutes to go. Sighing, he sat back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest, almost knocking off his nametag from his breastpocket. Taking a deep breath, the smell of antiseptics filled his nose. He was used to it, his hands always held the strong spice of disinfectants, filling his lungs whenever he lifted them close to his face.

He had everything. At least, he tried to make himself believe it.

When the steady sound of his pager broke the silence, he grabbed his keys and left the office without a word, his steps hurrying after he turned off the lights off, slamming the doors shut.

Time to work.

xxx

* * *

><p><strong>Here you go! Now I really hope that I'll have time to write, because as far as I know my next week is full of work and family. And my computer doesn't like to work. <strong>

**I'll try to show up!**

**Thanks for everyone, and I'd say sorry, but now I don't feel like apologizing. So sorry, I'm not sorry. **

**Vivienne**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: hey! Finally here with the re-written second chapter. It took some time and I'll try to be less horrible with my updates, because I'm really thankful for all the attention that this story has gotten so far. Merry Christmas everyone, have a wonderful holiday! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach and right now I'm pretty sure that I will never own it. **

**The Clawed Butterfly: thanks for being my Beta!**

* * *

><p>"Dr. Kuchiki, wait." A small voice echoes through the relatively empty corridors. The owner is clearly afraid to speak, but does so anyway. The woman addressed turns around to face an intern, who has been in the hospital for only a week now. One well-kept eyebrow is raised, urging the younger one to speak. Now.<p>

"It's just...there is...um...a blood stain on your shirt," she says, fidgeting while she stands, and avoiding eye contact with her superior. Dr. Kuchiki glances down at her clothes, realizing that she is right, there's a pretty noticeable crimson coloured spot on her side. Looking back up, she raises both of her thin eyebrows.

"And?" her confident, rich voice travels through the air, reaching the assistant, who finally gives in and connects with the woman through her eyes. Surprised, scared... is she really that scary?

"Um..." She has no idea what to say. She had been warned during her lunch break by her colleagues: be careful with Miss Kuchiki.

_"She will be transferred." A slender, black-haired assistant called Nanao had whispered to her. She'd adjusted her glasses before turning towards the others, taking slow, careful sips from her steaming cup of tea._

_"Hmm, I feel sorry for her. I mean, she is a pro. And I like working with her" A tall, plump woman had answered after she took a bite from her sandwich. Then shaking her head, she'd added, "I will give you some advice, little one: be respectful towards her. Listen to her every word, do as she tells you, don't play the clumsy one."_

_A blonde one had nodded, while she chewed on a forkful of salad. Swallowing, she joined, "Don't get us wrong, she is nice. But she doesn't want to leave this hospital, so she is...stern. She tends to bite."_

Uhh...had she really forgotten that? How in the earth could she have forgotten_ that?_

"Nothing." She quickly bows, trying to save the situation. Violet eyes scan her form from head to toe. She seems so...delicate, that the doctor couldn't be mad at her. Sighing, she steps closer. "I have no idea if there's something wrong with your memory," she starts, careful with the sharp edge of her words; "but we just tended to a patient with arterial bleeding. Artery. Blood spurting everywhere."

"Yes." The girl still couldn't bring herself to look into her eyes. Sighing again, she shakes her head looking at the mop of brown hair. "You have a lot to learn. In every way. Good luck with that, because you are in the perfect place to get all the knowledge that you will ever need." When the assistant looks up to answer, or at least thank her, she only manages to catch her small form retreating in the direction of her office.

xxx

Reaching her destination, she looks at the door with an unreadable expression. There are four small holes in the neatly painted wood, signalling the place where her namecard had once been. Choosing the right key, she opens the door with a light clicking sound, entering the small room which had been her sanctuary for almost a decade.

Her small and slightly hurting hand reaches out to turn on the lights. She does it without bothering to look- this movement is burned into the back of her memory.

The 6 steps towards her chair has never been this long. She looks up at every corner, noting some cobwebs hanging around. Ugh. What did the cleaner do in her room? Whatever. Right now, if she could, she would pack that spider web with it's owner and take it away with her. As a memory.

Slamming herself down in her comfy chair, she decides that her last hour in this hospital will be spent like this. Sitting here, looking around, musing on her life. Everything is already packed and delivered to her apartment, but one thing is blinking at her from the top of her desk.

**Dr. Kuchiki Rukia**

**General Surgeon**

**Head physician in the Surgery Ward**

_Rukia Kuchiki, 28 years old, surgeon in Tokyo City Hospital, property of a private individual._

A small knock on the door pulls her out from her thoughts. She hesitates for a minute, and wonders if she could just simply send away the person who is waiting for her reply, but quickly dismisses the thought: she is not that melancholic.

"Come in" she says, and the door opens to slowly reveal Nanao, the nurse who has been under her care ever since she started to work in this hospital as a resident. The woman smiles softly, only stepping inside with one foot. "May I disturb you for a minute?"

Rukia's voice is smooth and quiet. "Of course. Take a seat." She doesn't bother to look up, she is too busy with holding her nameboard, tracing the slightly convex letters with her fingertips. Nanao silently makes her way towards the chairs, taking the one which is facing her superior. "I think there's no point in hiding the fact that I came here to talk with you about personal matters." Nanao adjusts her glasses, her blue eyes fixated on the top of the surgeon's head. She doesn't look up, instead one of her hands leaves the nameboard to support her chin. "I'm listening."

Nanao blinks as she leans back in her chair. "That's my line. I think I'm the one who is supposed to say this."

Finally, Rukia glances up at Nanao for a moment before she brings back her orbs to the object in her hand. "I think you know everything. I.. never expected this. I thought that I would retire from this place."

"I understand, I was really shocked when I first heard the news." she wants to comfort the younger female. Over the years, they've learned that there are a lot of things that they share in common, especially when it comes to work. Their first link was their working morals, and later they became friends. However Nanao seemed to always take a step back to let Rukia know that she respects and acknowledges her as her supervisor, but Kuchiki remains modest.

Rukia finally put down the board. "Don't get me wrong, I can handle this situation. It's just.. that .. it has always been this place. When I decided that I want to be a doctor, I knew that I had a millions of alternatives, to which hospital do I want to work for...but my brother-in-law decided: Tokyo City Hospital. The best hospital in whole Japan. I accepted this, absentmindedly set it as my goal, to graduate like my life depended on the good grades, to always aim for the best, learn more, train harder, become the best... and it's frightful, that as I look back, I kind of became obsessed with something that is kicking me out now."

"We're not kicking you out!" Nanao is quick to reply, and it's slightly louder than she intended it to be. Clearing her throat to ease her nerves, she continues. "And I know that you have every right to feel what you feel now, but please consider that you're thinking in the wrong way. Yes, you've directed your life to end up here, but things don't always turn out like we plan. Things always happen for a reason."

"Ugh..." Rukia rubs her forehead, her eyebrows slightly moving closer. "Destiny or what— the universe? I seriously don't give a... anything. Anything about this, because I don't believe in such a things."

"Well, our opinions differ. And...you can come back anytime for a visit! And be sure that I'll pay you a visit whenever I will be close to Kamakura."

Rukia peeks up from under her lashes. "Karakura. See? It's such a small town that we don't even know a single thing about it."

After a few moments of silence Nanao reaches out to take Rukia's hand. She squeezes it, before she decides that it'll be the best if she won't say a thing, and silently makes her way out of the office, leaving the troubled surgeon alone.

Rukia sits there for a few minutes, before deciding that it's time to head home, since she is still in the middle of packing up her personal stuff. Looking around one more time in her office, she tries to memorize as much detail as her brain could contain. She never wants to forget this place. It all means so much to her, and she thinks it's unfair that she is transferred to some countryside place somewhere behind God's back.

But they need her—at least, that's what her mentor told her, and she would never doubt his words. Professor Ukitake told her that she is the perfect candidate for this position, and that it's for her own sake.

"My own sake... tch... taking me away from my family by sending me to the middle of nowhere.. yes, that's just fancy." She mutters to herself as she dressed up in her casual clothes to get home.

Every move seems so heavy, knowing that it's the last time.

After her coat and her scarf is present on her, she took hold of the last box of her belongings, looking back one more time before turning off the lights, closing the door with a speed that a snail could challenge.

With shivering hands, she pockets the keys, making a mental note that she will have to return them this afternoon on her "Farewell Party" or whatever. So...they are celebrating her leaving? She feels loved. But it'd be rude to decline their offer. Those assistants just want an excuse to drink. Gosh.

After her first step, with her car keys now in her left hand, she looks back one more time, noting to herself that she will never be able to go back to that room. She seriously feels like she's being kicked out.

xxx

* * *

><p><strong>AN: thank you for your time, I hope you liked it! I'll try to update on December 31st, but I'm pretty busy and 2015 is coming up... where did this year go?! <strong>

**Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows! Let me know what you think: review. Hey, it's Christmas! **

**Vivienne's out. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Sorry for the late update. Yesterday was my _nameday, _and I decided to upload as a present for everyone.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favs and follows. I'm really thankful!**

**I don't own Bleach. Special thanks for The Clawed Butterfly! **

* * *

><p><strong>The week when the devil took over the hospital<strong>

xxx

"How was your week off, Dr. Kurosaki?" A cheerful, energetic assistant asks him after he steps inside the hospital, weaving through the injured and sick, trying not to bump into them. He sighs, silently preparing himself for all the work that he missed. He could imagine all the stacks of paperwork piling up on his desk.

She doesn't have a problem with that, it seems. He really envies people who are unaffected by Mondays.

"Fine. I travelled to my favourite place and rested as much as I could, erm- " he glances down at her nametag; " -Miss Hinamori. Anything worth mentioning while I was away?" he asks when they reach the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. No personal or polite questions back.

"Ehm, well..." she trails off, suddenly losing her joyful aura, looking down at the ground. Should she tell him?

Giving her a once-over, he furrows his brows, noticing that she is being secretive towards him. Placing his coat on his arm, he pockets his free palm, turning towards the young woman. "I'm listening." his voice is so commanding that it physically hurts, leaving no room for lies or denying.

She opens her mouth to speak, weighing her possibilities, that he will get to know it sooner or later; but a rather loud voice rings through the busy hall, calling for her.

"Momo, where are you? You have one more task before you can exit the emergency unit!" a tall, busty woman walks up to them, interrupting their little chat with her sudden arrival. Her blue eyes sparkle with an uncommon amount of happiness, surprising the orange haired doctor for a second. Wow... is it possible to work with that much enthusiasism?

"Sorry, sir, we need her." she bows a bit, then takes a hold of Hinamori's arm to drag her away. He scowls harder. He wasn't able to get an answer.

Just then, the elevator arrives, it's shiny metal doors opening with a slow but smooth motion, a small bell-like voice signalling that he may enter. Almost jumping inside -so he can avoid anyone who is planning on accompanying him- he presses the number 5, then the button to close the doors. While riding, he stares at his reflection on the mirror, noticing that he has gained a little weight over the last few months. Of course, he barely has time to work out like he used to do. The surgery ward has become his second home, and he never hesitates to neglect some parts from his own life to focus more on hospital work. But time to hit the gym, he notes to himself.

The elevator suddenly stops at the third floor, slowly opening the doors to reveal a tall, black-haired man in a white overcoat, his lips turning into a small, mocking smile as he steps inside the lift. Ichigo steps back, his back pressing against the cool, smooth surface of the mirrors. He wants to _really_ keep distance from him.

"Isn't it my dear friend? What are you doing back there?" he grins at him, obviously pleased with the results of his sarcastic remark. The doors close, and they continue their way up.

Setting his lips into a thin line, he growls at him. "Yes, you have noteworthy skills of detecting people, I must say. But I still hate you, Ishida."

Chuckling, he pretends to be hurt by placing one of his hands on his chest. "Aw, your words wound me."

The small bell signals that it's time to leave the elevator, and Ichigo gladly does.

"Meeting at 11." Ishida adds, and waves at him as the doors close again, taking him to his floor.

"Meeting at 11." he repeats to himself, while he enters his code to open the doors to his ward. Pushing the heavy, electrical entry, he almost smiles when he arrives. Almost.

Silence, tidiness, obedience. The corridors sparkle, the white colour saluting to him, a pleasant, light flowery scent mixed with disinfectants wafting through the air. Every assistant is silently doing their duties, none of them seem to waste time gossiping- what he thinks is usual. Upon his arrival, they all bow down, greeting him at the same time.

"Good morning, sir."

And like sedulous, dutiful little ants, they resume their work -checking papers, packing medical supplies and coordinating different appointments for surgeries. But none of them are monotonous, they seem eager.

What the hell happened to his people? He seriously wants to shout at them, order them to do something, holding a little speech that they must've gone soft over the week while he was away.

He almost pouts. He feels like a kicked puppy. A confused one.

Hearing a small beeping sound, he looks back over his shoulder to see who is coming through the doors. A short, black-haired woman walks inside, her steps quick and soft, with her cream coloured skirt softly swaying around her delicate legs, a short-styled doctor's coat covering her top, her nametag hanging in a way that he couldn't see it. Turning towards the nurses, she smiles a bit, and they all stop to return her gesture, while bowing down.

"Good morning, Ms. Kuchiki." they say in unison, their voice noticeably happier, comparing to the one they used when he came in.

And then... she passes by him, without looking at him or letting him know that she acknowledges his presence.

Nothing.

Anyway, who the hell is that woman? And who does she think she is, just waltzing in_ his territory_, stealing the spotlight, humiliating him...!

"How's everything?" she asks as she stops at the nurse's desk, lifting up some papers to read over them.

What, she owns this place or something? Enough is enough, he's going to end her little play. She might be lost, and he will gladly escort this girl back to Wonderland.

"Who are you?" his voice drips with venom, so low and commanding that a few of the assistants step back, his anger seeping into the atmosphere, leaving them nervous and agitated.

Slowly, with her poker face on, the woman turns her head towards him, looking at him from head to toe, peeking from the top of her glasses with an unimpressed expression.

"What's with this jeer? And the question is- " she turns to face him, taking off her glasses, looking straight into his glaring, warning eyes, challenging him with her steady orbs; "who are _you_?"

Like cockroaches escaping the daylight, the assistants disappear from their way, a few of them hurrying inside their office, closing the door behind them.

Escape the warzone while you are able.

"Me, you ask?" the side of his lips twitch upwards, as he steps closer, slightly threatening her. "Dr. Ichigo Kurosaki, traumatology surgeon."

She follows his thumb which is pointing at a metal board at the wall, listing the names of the doctors who worked in this ward, with his on the top.

She crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows and sighing. Then, she slowly nods. "So you are the famous, dreadful Dr. Kurosaki." Closing the distance between them so they just stand a foot away, she offers her hand for a handshake. "Dr. Rukia Kuchiki, general surgeon." he takes her small palm in his large, calloused one, both of them gripping the other's hand with a steady force. But his hand goes limp when she adds the next sentence with a small smile:

"The new head of the Surgery Department."

xxx

"I don't care, let me in! **NOW**!" the orange haired doctor shouts at the president's secretary, who looks like she's going to break down crying from his attitude towards her, fearing the if she doesn't submit, he might hurt her. Okay, he would never... but still. He looks like a charging bull, ready to take down the door if necessary. She swears she could see steam coming out of his ears.

And really breaking in the door - which let out a painful 'thud' after being forced open without turning the doorknob- he steps inside the the office, eyes red, breath ragged as he storms out his feelings.

"What? Why her? Why not me? I wanted that position! I will not accept any explanation! Fire her now or I will kick her little ass out!" he shouts at the president, who sits back, blinking at him before smiling. Picking up his fan, he waves it at him, as if he could cool him down.

"Ora, ora my dear surgeon" he starts, his smile never leaving his sly, mischievous face " you will pay for that door."

In a blink of an eye, Ichigo is before him, leaning over the table, barely keeping himself back from killing the man before him. "Why?" he growls.

Stopping his hands, he closes his fan as his smile disappears. "Temper, young one. Never forget your place." he warns him, pointing at the chair to make him sit down. Huffing, taking deep, nervous breaths, he sits down, his glare so sharp that if looks could kill... the president would be dead.

"Your dad is my friend. But that does not give you the privilege to raise your voice or act like the way you do." he clasps his hands together, straining his neck to peek through the small area where the doors break apart. "Isane~ !" he sings, his cheerful personality coming back. A small, trembling voice answers. "Y-Yes?"

"Tea, please."

"Right away!" her voice sounds like she is running away.

Leaning back in his chair, he tilts his hat to get a better look at the younger male. "My, my, Ichigo, you gained weight?" he shakes his head with a lazy smile.

"Yes" he spits out with rage ",and now that you have your answer, I want mine."

"Hm, hm, temper, brat. But okay, I'm willing to talk with you. So, she is from Tokyo, and -I have to add- from the best hospital of our country. It's a real miracle that they let her go..." he trails off as he scratches his stubble, and gets easily distracted by his own thoughts.

Ichigo deadpans. And he is the president... what, oh what went wrong in this place? He goes away for a week and everything is taking a turn for the worst? Why?

"Sorry to interrupt your moment with the daydreaming and all, but please.."

"Ah, yes!" Urahara almost jumps up, grinning like an idiot. "So, the reason I chose her as the head, because of -tea!" His face lights up as a scared Isane appears in the office, carrying a tray. Reaching the desk, she doesn't look up as she sets it down, quickly turning around and hurrying out, her steps echoing through the small room.

The president hums a small tune as he pours some tea for the young doctor before filling up his own cup. He stops humming after he takes a small sip, burning his tongue in the process, setting the cup down.

Ichigo just stares at him, his expression unreadable. He smiles at him, leaning back in his chair. Silence fills the office, the older doctor smiling lazily while Kurosaki turns redder by the minute.

"I worked. I learned. I did nothing but my best, always thinking about everyone before me. I treated everyone like their lives are the most precious things for me, and in fact, they are. I sacrificed my plans, revolving my life around the hospital, thinking that once I reached the top, I can finally take some time to build my own personal life. This so called top was the "Head Surgeon" position, and you knew it. I applied for this almost a year before, always adding different files to my list of success. When the previous head retired, I was the one who took his position, saving the ward from breaking down. I thought that place is mine. I demand an explanation!" Ichigo sits back after he tells him his opinion, his heart beating wildly from all the suppressed rage he is feeling. This is no fair play.

Urahara nods, knowing that every word he said is true. "You are right, Kurosaki. As I said, she came from a first-class hospital, and I'm not allowed to tell you details about her, but I can say that both of you are about the same. I mean, when it comes to work, and if someone, you are the perfect person to challenge her knowledge. You could be the winner, but she is a step ahead of you. She won with her experience, she is two years your senior. She had been in different complicated situations that you never had the chance to meet so far. The only thing that I can say is that it was hard to choose, but everyone agreed with me that we will think about recognising your devoted work. It's a secret" he leans closer to the orange haired male, whispering the next words "but we were thinking about giving you the title, too."

"It wouldn't help. I don't want something from pity. And I don't want to share, either. " he crosses his arms, staring down at the ground.

Urahara watches without a word as he gets up from his seat, completely understanding that he feels like he lost, this fact wounding him deeply.

xxx

_3 hours later_

He steps out of the surgery room, opening the door for his patient to let her out, who thanks him before she limps towards the exit. The remaining patients groan when they realize that it's time for Kurosaki to take a break, meaning that they will sit here for a good amount of time, waiting for their turn.

He stares at the ground as he walks in the direction of his office, where a stack of papers are waiting for him.

Once he steps inside, he turns on his coffee machine, silently waiting for the black beverage to be ready -he needss some support, really. Sitting down, he glances at the clock, but regrets it immediately. 11:20 am - it makes him remember the he is supposed to attend the meeting. Supposed to, but now it's all Dr. Kuchiki's duty.

He feels so _useless._

Once he had returned from his little chat with the president, the little she-devil had been the first to attack him, explaining different tasks that he knew too well how to do. He was the boss, after all, he didn't need her to hold his hand while he worked.

She had treated him like a child, speaking slowly, repeating words that she thought were too hard for him to understand, earning his hate within a single minute.

She thinks that she is better than him. She thinks that she can walk in his little world, taking full control.

After his small machine beeps to tell him that the coffee is ready, he pours himself some.

He will teach her a lesson. No one fucks with him.

He reached the top on his own, working his ass off to earn respect from his colleagues.

She won't take away this from him.

"Bring it on, Kuchiki."

xxx

The delicate sound of her high heels' clicking sounds through the corridors after she exits the meeting, repeating the events and the different themes inside her mind, thinking about the parts which included her. She absentmindedly enters her code, stepping inside the surgery department.

Her first route leads her inside a small room where a young child lies, different machines beeping around him, signalling that he is fine and alive.

"How are you, dear?" Rukia walks up to his bed, carefully sitting down on the edge, a tiny smile on her small lips.

"Getting better, I think" the little boy answers with a small, weak voice. "How long before I can see my mommy and daddy?"

"A couple of days, I'm afraid. Your immune system is still far too weak, and I can't risk the chance of you getting infected. Bear with us." she looks at him apologetically, placing her hands on her knees. For a few moments, neither of them speaks.

"Do you need something? Aren't you hungry, or thirsty? I can get you something if you'd like." she offers, crossing her legs while she speaks softly, her voice calming down the little one.

"No, thanks. I don't want anything." he shakes his head lightly, a small question sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Dr. Kuchiki: are you always this nice with your patients?" the boy asks, his eyes becoming heavier with sleep by the minute.

She chuckles, her eyes shining with warmth. "I'm trying. But now I will take my leave, I see that you need some rest. Within a couple of hours I will be back to change your bandages." she stands up, and catches the sound of his groaning. "I know, I know" she put her hands up as she walks towards the door, "you don't like them. But we have to. Now, let's sleep." she looks back one more time to see him closing his eyes, letting sleep wining over him.

Closing the door quietly, she heads towards the nurse's desk, where she finds her list of tasks missing. She searches for it everywhere, even bending down to see that maybe it fell down, but nothing.

Frowning, she approaches the first nurse to ask her about it, when a loud and deep voice reaches her ears.

"Yes, yes, you have to check the needles, I'm sure that we need to order new ones. And you, Hinamori, check the appointments. I want you to rearrange all of them, thinking about possible lateness, calculate... 10 minutes, fine?"

"Yes, Dr. Kurosaki!"

"Perfect. Now everyone, let's work!"

Almost all of the nurses appear from his office, everyone avoiding eye contact with her as they go on with their work. In the end, Ichigo steps out, holding a paper in his large hand that resembles too much like her list. Her list, consisting the tasks of the _head._

He walks towards her, one of his hands in his pocket, the other one offering the paper.

"I think you lost this, _Rukia_" He says her name with a hint of huskiness, confusing her. When did she let him call her by her given name?

"But don't worry your pretty little face, everything is done."

She receives the paper, a deep scowl appearing on her face. He walks away, but turns back to stab at her one more time. "No need to thank me, really._ I did it like it's my own duty_."

She hears the main door open and close, knowing that he left.

She is so irritated and angry that she swears she could end him with a single wish. She is not used to this. In Tokyo, she received immediate respect from everyone, no one dared to challenge her. But she won't let him think that he can play with her.

Let the hell unfold for the impudent, reckless man who dares to mess with Rukia Kuchiki.

xxx

_A few days later_

"Take care! See you at lunch! I love you!" he hears as she gives her husband a kiss, a big, sloppy one on the cheek, before she flies towards the door. "Bye, Dr. Kurosaki!" she sings, and he growls back -that was a big favor from him that he acknowledges her that much. When the door closes, he hears Uryuu slamming down his cup.

"Would you die if you'd act nice towards my wife?" he asks, his icy blue orbs narrowed in annoyance.

Kurosaki leans back in his chair, clearly uninterested. "Yes. I think I would have immediate symptoms like fever, headache and nausea before you could diagnose me with the dreadful _Ihateloveandeverythingthatinvolvesit. _It's actually lethal, I'd die within minutes. Choking from all the pink hearts dancing around your whipped ass." he finishes with a glare, staring at his internist colleague, who scoffs at him.

"Just to let you know: I wouldn't even lift a hand to save your idiot form, you jerk." he clears his throat before he resumes his work.

"Aw, you are making me blush, you are such a sweetheart." he teases, and if it weren't for his quick reflexes, that empty plastic cup would_ definitely _hit him in the head.

"I want to get away from you as soon as possible, so let's finish this, shall we?" the black haired male pushes some papers to Ichigo, who takes it, reading it quickly, his professional side turning on quickly. The sharp white lights make him look older than his actual age, and Uryuu watches this from the corner of his eye. He is slightly concerned about his friend.

"Blood tests?" Ichigo asks, searching for the results. "Here" Uryuu hands him another paper, "do you think that she's stable enough for a surgery? That's my only dilemma."

"We have to contact a cardiologist. I can't tell, but according to her weight and age, it's not that easy. The only thing that I know that we don't have a lot of time, that thing will get bigger with time, closing off her artery. To be honest, I have never seen something like that. Maybe it's not even my professional field." he scratches the back of his head as he lifts up an x-ray, trying to figure out something abut this case.

"No way, you will be in the team. I want you there. You, me, a cardiologist, and maybe another surgeon, to make sure that we can handle a complication. We don't even know what this thing is." he points at the papers, shaking his head.

"I bet that it's not a tumor. It has to do something with her weight." the orange head shakes his head. "Anyway, I want to speak with this woman. Let me know when she pays you a visit, tell her to contact me."

"I will. And, try to stay calm, but... tell Kuchiki to contact me." Ishida mutters the last part, coughing lightly.

Amber eyes close, and a deep breath is released. "You want her be in the team, right?" his voice is quiet, silently signaling his upcoming storm.

"We definitely need her knowledge during this situation-"

"Why always her! Please, if she wouldn't be there we'd still do this! Why pretend that we can't even wash our hands without the mighty and perfect Dr. Rukia freaking Kuchiki!" he jumps from his seat, walking around in circles to calm himself down.

" -we are talking about a life here, not about your hurt ego! Be a man and leave this behind!" he tries to reason with him, but it was a lost case.

"I will never, ever allow her as my boss. That woman..."

"Are you being sexist? You can't accept it that she is a she, right?" Uryuu asks him, his eyes gleaming with curiousness.

"It's not that! But I wanted this position so bad, and look at that! A woman comes in and steals everything, you know, everything!"

"A woman comes in...Ichigo, we are living in the 21th century, please. You know, the suffragette movement is a long forgotten, successful event. Accept it. "

"She needs to stay home, pushing out a few brats for whoever is able to keep up with her bitchy attitude, she is like, 40? She will get old with a couple of cats parading about her midget form!" Kurosaki turns towards the window, pocketing both of his hands.

"I'm not sure if you are worried about her personal life or if you are being sexist." Uryuu rubs his temples.

Defeated, he buries his face in his palms. "I will take the being sexist one."

xxx

"Since our little talk this morning, I can't help but imagine Kuchiki in a suffragette costume every time I close my eyes."

"Well, that escalated quickly. You are already dreaming about her. Before I know, the two of you will get married."

"Maybe, if pigs fly and hell freeze over." Ichigo sips on his water before he continues his lunch, stuffing rice in his face with his chopsticks.

"Right. She is smarter than ever getting together with you." Uryuu smiles at him before he stirs his salad.

"First: you know that it's so gay that you are eating salad with a glass of unsweetened green tea? And second: why do I eat my lunch with you? Third: what does Inoue see in you?" he chews on a piece of pork as he points at his salad.

"It's healthy." he answered him, his tone irritated. "And don't be jealous of my harmonious marriage with Orihime. You need an actual intelligence of feelings to build up a steady relationship with someone. As far as I know, you are awfully alone. What's going on? Not even a concubine or a mistress?" he whispers the last part, eyeing the tables around them to avoid any curious ears listening in their conversation.

"Wha..? What?" he almost chokes on a piece of mushroom, getting a few whispers and glances from their co-workers by his sudden outburst. Eyes wide, he leans closer to Uryuu, slamming his fist on the table. "First, what's up with your choice of words? And do you think I'm so embittered to actually pay a woman for sexual services? I don't have bitches! I don't need to pay to get someone in my bed!"

Oh, he was fuming, and if he wouldn't fear of losing his job, he'd already choking his "friend".

Looking around with a nervous smile, Ishida waves at everyone who is staring at them. "Everyone, get back to your lunch, we are just discussing a few matters about our personal life." Groaning, every colleague turns back to their table, the sounds of their voice returning slowly.

"Try to behave, you ape! Keep your voice down! It's in your favour to be secretive... why don't you shout out to the whole world!"

"Me? Weren't you the one who accused me of a loser who can't get any on his own?" oh, he was on the edge.

"Kurosaki, honestly... do you try to find a decent girlfriend?"

"I don't need one." he crosses his arms, avoiding eye contact. Clickking his tongue, the black haired male respons. "I know that you are not asexual, nor homosexual-"

"You are flattering me" he remarks, sarcastically. Ishida sighs, clapping once to get his attention. "So, everyone needs a mate-"

"Mate.."

Ishida closes his eyes to calm his nerves. "Would you shut the hell up, please? What I'm trying to say is that you were making fun of Kuchiki for being single while you are the worst case!"

Ichigo doesn't have a reply for that. He just takes deep breaths, staring at a piece of vegetable on his plate. Cold blue eyes watch him with sympathy, changing for a gentle tone. "How's Yuzu and Karin?"

Ichigo raises his eyebrows, fidgeting in his seat, making eye contact with Ishida for a second. "They are fine."

"Yes, they were long months ago when you last visited them... actually, a whole year passed. Tell me, at least do you lift up your phone to check on them sometimes?"

His frown is so deep that Ishida didn't think that his voice would be so vulnerable. "You don't have to remind me how much of a bad brother I am."

With that said, he stands up, placing a some yen on the table, leaving his companion alone, his lunch long forgotten.

Ishida sighs, rubbing his temple to ease his upcoming headache, then he pushes away his own lunch, suddenly feeling guilty.

A light cough brings him back to reality, and he looks up to see one of his colleagues, Jin Kariya leaning closer to him, motioning for him to do the same.

"If you want to help him, break his walls one at a time." he whispers, his brown orbs shining with understanding. Ishida nods before looking down. "I should just send him to you. You are the psychiatrist."

Kariya starightens his back while he let out a slight laugh. "I don't think that it'd work. He... how should I say it... he doesn't really like my face."

"Don't get offended. He doesn't really like anyone."

"I know, I know. But now excuse me, I have an appointment, and I'm already 5 minutes late." Kariya waves at him, jogging out of the cafeteria.

A few tables away Rukia had watched the whole scene with a surprised expression on her face.

xxx

"Kurosaki, come here."

Ichigo isn't hiding that he really didn't want to obey her. With a loud screeching sound, he gets up from his seat, sighing, and with a snail-like pace he walks up to Rukia. She counts to ten in her mind to overlook this theatrical act. When he finally reaches her, she points at a chair, and he sits down with another loud sound.

"Yes, Miss Kuchiki?" he says in a monotone voice, leaning back in the chair. To Rukia, he looks like a peevish child, and she is not really a big fan of things like that.

"A moment" she says before getting up to close the door of her office, leaving the two of them completely alone. Walking back, she pats her skirt to get rid of the small wrinkles before she sits down again. She smiles at him, and Ichigo almost jumps back from his surprise.

"Kurosaki" she calls out to him in a small tone. "I think we need to talk. We didn't start on a really good basis."

"Yes," Ichigo shrugs his shoulders, "and? We are colleagues, not friends."

"I'm sorry that you are thinking that way. See, the both of us spend a lot of time here, and I know that this place is just as important to me that it is to you. Somehow, the both of us responsible for this ward, and I think it'd be great if we could treat each other with respect." Violet orbs stare at him with straightforward determination, and he doesn't know what to say for a minute. She is right, he doesn't respect her.

"It's just new to me." he sighs, placing his clasped hands on her table. "Before you came, I did your job."

"I've heard" she crosses her legs, glancing at a photo on her table which Ichigo couldn't see, "and I must say, I was impressed that a department without a head could manage so well. You did a good job. But please, be honest: you are ruining your image. Isn't it childish? Stealing my tasks, trying to challenge me for my position, humiliating me before my employes, even going as far like the patients." she explained, referring to his action a day before, where he told her patient's that she is currently not capable to tend them properly, offering his help, leaving her wondering why is everyone late from their appointment.

He knows it. He doesn't need her to tell him. "What do you want? Don't you think that it's so sudden that you want to be friends and rainbows out of nowhere?" he snaps, becoming nervous with this pointless meeting. Rukia is taken aback by his rudeness. "Don't be so egoistical that you think I want to be friends with you. I'm not a fool to believe in things that will never happen."

"Good to hear that you have a small sense for reality." he scoffs, his furrowed brows almost meeting each other.

"Excuse me?" the head slams her hand down on the table. "Mind your attitude. I don't care about your previous behaviour when you were the boss, which let me tell you, is ridiculous from what I've heard" she snarls at him, "but for your own sake: don't get on my bad side."

"Ha, I'm so afraid of your empty words." he stands up, towering over her sitting form, trying to scare her with his commanding presence. That's the point when she realized that she won't range with him, she changed to plan B. She can't endanger her spot.

He doesn't expect her small lips to turn into a smirk. "From now on, you are demoted to my team, meaning that you can't even sign a paper without my permission."

She swears that she feels satisfied by his shocked expression. "Let's think about this ... like a title as my personal assistant, _Ichigo_."

* * *

><p><strong>And that's all for now. Yes, kinda boring, but stay with me, the real fun is about to begin: Ichigo and Rukia working together, with Rukia finally taking control. IchiRuki moments on the way! <strong>

**And I don't want to turn this fic into a medical book, but I have to tell some details about various cases, for the sake of the storyline. **

**Did you notice that Rukia tried to be gentle? Tried. **

**I'm writing the next chapter for _September._ *advertisement* **

**Thank you so much for your time! Leave a review. **

**Vivienne**


End file.
